One Step at a Time
by MyBear
Summary: {{HIATUS - NOT ABANDONED. The muse has left me for the moment... This'll teach me to start posting stuff before I have the chapters written}} The Dursleys are arseholes. Harry is a teenager, and does teenager things. People actually care, and do things about, his sucky childhood. I promise drinking games in later chapters.
1. Prologue

**AN - Hey there! This is my first time posting a story and I wanted to give a quick introduction to myself and this piece of shit** ** _**kicks story**_** **that I'm hoping you enjoy. It has always seriously bugged me that Harry's abuse is almost entirely glossed over in canon and NO ONE SEEMS TO GIVE A FUCK. So this is me. Giving a fuck.**

 **I'm going to attempt to keep everyone as in character as possible,** ** _yes_** **that means the Dursleys, while complete and utter** ** _arseholes_** **, won't be sexually abusive ((as there is no evidence I have been able to find of this in canon)) or overly physically abusive, although I will likely try and elaborate on the emotional abuse and neglect Harry experiences. If you find these topics distressing I strongly recommend you do not read this story.**

 **Also Harry is the** ** _ultimate_** **bisexual sass queen. ((it's canon and no one can convince me otherwise)).**

 **I will only be posting the prologue to start, and reviews are much appreciated ((even if all you say is "Nice."))**

 **...~xXx~...**

 _The little boy with messy black hair stood quietly in the hallway, peering into the room. His overlarge glasses slipped down his face and he pushed them up his nose as he rubbed the dangling sleeve of his shirt between his fingers._

" _Happy Birthday Diddy-kins!" Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon cheered as they showered the chubby blonde boy with affection. Aunt Petunia pushed a towering cake with the words 'Happy 6th Birthday' written in vibrant blue towards the boy._

" _Go on Sweetums. Dig in!"_

 _The blonde beach ball squealed and started stuffing handfuls of the cake all over his face. Presumably he was aiming for his mouth, but his aim wasn't very accurate._

 _The black haired boy's eyes widened with amazement. He had never seen such a big cake before, and the colourful boxes covering the room seemed to shine. When he couldn't bear to wait any more he slipped into the room - his feet making hardly any sound on the carpeted flooring._

" _Aunty?" The boy smiled up at his Aunt, "Could I please have some cake too?"_

 _Petunia glared at the child's sudden appearance and hissed venomously , "What are you doing?! You'll spoil Dudley's birthday. Go back to your cupboard."_

 _The little boy's brows furrowed in innocent confusion, "Could... I maybe have a birthday too before I go in the cupboard?"_

 _Petunia turned to Vernon abruptly and jerked her head in the boy's direction. "Vernon! Could you deal with this please?" She then turned to the blonde boy - cooing over her blue streaked son and ignoring the other child in the room like he was invisible._

 _The black haired boy backtracked as his Uncle's menacing glare turned on him. He didn't know what he said but he knew they didn't like it._

" _Or a shiny box to play with?" The child hastened to add, "After Dudley's done having his turn?"_

 _Vernon's hand pointed to the hallway, "Cupboard. Now."_

" _But-"_

" _NOW." This time the word was punctuated by an apple that was grabbed from the fruit bowl flying through the air towards the boy's head. The boy ducked and yelped, hunching over as he darted for the cupboard._

 _As the boy closed the cupboard door without a sound he heard his Aunt muttering, "Honestly… the nerve of that child. Interrupting Dudders birthday like that. We need to teach him some manners Vernon - it won't do to have the neighbors see him act like that."_

" _I think you're right Petunia…" with that, the lock on his cupboard latched and he was left in darkness._

 _The boy lay himself on his tiny cot, and buried his face in the lumpy pillow as he fruitlessly attempted to stem the steady flow of wetness from his eyes. He hoped they'd remember to give him dinner tonight. Maybe if he was good he'd get a shiny box too._


	2. Chapter 1

_**AN - I'll be honest with you guys here. I've had this chapter ready to go for over a week, but haven't posted it. Why? Because I was really worried that it wouldn't live up to people's expectations and people would be disappointed. I know some writers who may end up reading this - and I look up to them I didn't want to let them down.**_

 _ **But I've decided to post. Because I like this chapter - and I like where my story is headed and I want to share it. Even if it does disappoint some people. For those of you that stick around to see where it goes - thank you so much :).**_

…~xXx~...

Vernon was on a tangent as the family sat down at the table for a late breakfast. Harry set their plates stacked with food on the table with practiced, almost unconscious movements, before taking the leftovers for himself and slinking off to a corner of the kitchen. He just barely managed to restrain his eye roll at Uncle Vernon's blustering.

"If those fools down in accounting would just do their goddamn jobs we wouldn't have this problem!"

Any minor interest Harry may have had at this point was lost and he quickly scarfed down his breakfast of toast and leftover egg. Then he busied himself with the clean up of the breakfast preparation. A harsh glare from Petunia had him clenching his teeth, but quieting down his movements nonetheless.

A few minutes later he found himself catching the tail-end of Vernon's long winded complaint.

"The nerve of them I say! Inviting themselves over for a meal," Vernon scoffed, "Not like I've got much of a choice Petunia."

Petunia jumped in with reassurances automatically, "It's not your fault dear, I'll just have to make due."

Harry groaned internally. When Petunia said 'I' that normally meant 'Harry'. Although he couldn't really complain, it kept him busy at the least.

Harry started clearing the table of the now empty plates. The clinking of dishes as well as the slight splash of water as he sped through the chore were barely heard by the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were still discussing the impromptu dinner-party while making a list of chores to do and Dudley was quietly watching them.

Harry trudged over to where the list of chores had been placed on the counter and scanned it. He grew more and more annoyed as his eyes roamed down the list and his fingers clenched when he saw the time limit.

"You can't honestly expect me to get through this whole thing by evening," Harry said irritably. Uncle Vernon's face turned puce and Harry took a half step back.

"Do NOT speak to me that way, boy!" Uncle Vernon thundered, "You will do what Petunia and I tell you with no complaints! We've already done too much for you! Who do you think has to pay for all the mess you make?" Vernon sputtered, " All the food you eat?! This is the very least you can do!"

Harry sighed and sent a sour look at Vernon's retreating form as it turned and lumbered down the hall.

"Flatten your hair," Petunia snapped as she hurried after Vernon, "It's unsightly."

He straightened his glasses and looked once again at the list of chores. He picked up the list and stuffed it in his pocket before turning towards the door leading towards the garden. He really did not want to be inside right now.

"Er…"

Harry stopped and turned around, a bit bemused. It wasn't often Dudley made an effort to communicate with him these days.

Dudley seemed to be struggling for words and the corners of his lips were turned down in concentration. Finally he seemed to gather his resolve and looked at Harry determinedly.

"You shouldn't let him treat you like that. He's not… He shouldn't be doing that."

Harry blinked. That was a first.

"It's really not a big deal" He said slowly, drawing the words out, "I've been through much worse."

Dudley looked like he didn't really know what to say to that and Harry used that opportunity to turn away and stride outside.

He was a bit amused by Dudley's apparent concern. There really was no need for it, the Dursley's weren't that bad. Torture under Voldemort would certainly be worse, mused Harry, as well as Azkaban. Harry's mood plummeted and he angrily patted down his unruly hair.

The Dursleys were certainly not as bad as Azkaban. His lips tightened into a thin line and he swiftly grabbed gloves and a couple tools from the garden shed. His hands began aggressively weed-eating Petunia's garden. Driving away thoughts of Sirius, Voldemort and Azkaban with the back breaking work in the blistering heat.

Harry only managed to get two-thirds of the way through his list before 5 o'clock struck and Petunia hurried him upstairs and out-of-sight. He didn't mind, although he did idly hope they'd remember to bring him some food. He had kept a store of snacks under the loose floorboard but was hoping to avoid emptying it before half the summer was gone.

He ran himself through a quick shower and scrubbed most of the dirt off - being careful to keep an ear out for the sound of people coming up the stairs. He preferred to be out of the way before anyone could threaten to withhold meals for using up all the hot water, which he learned, could be used up in as little as 5 minutes when he was in the shower, but mysteriously could last over 30 minutes when Dudley used it.

Once back in his room Petunia shoved a sad looking sandwich and glass of water through the cat flap still installed in his door. Harry sighed but was still internally surprised they had remembered to give him any dinner at all. He pulled a couple pieces of meat out from the sandwich for Hedwig, and nearly inhaled the rest before chasing it down with half the water.

Satisfied, he scrawled his weekly assurance to Moody. Hedwig wasn't back yet but when she was he'd send it off.

 _M,_

 _All well. Any new information?_

 _H_

He hadn't had much luck… Moody wasn't very forthcoming, not that Harry had expected him to be but it was still annoying.

He glanced at the other, unfinished, letter on his desk

 _Professor Lupin,_

 _Remus,_

Were cluttering the parchment along with other various greetings. All were crossed off until the final one scrawled at the bottom.

 _Moony,_

 _How have you been?_

The parchment was creased and had ink stains all over. Harry supposed he would have to start on a new sheet if he did ever get to writing it.

He collapsed down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling blankly. The itchy sheets scratched at the exposed skin on his arms and the back of his neck as he watched the evening light dance on the ceiling.

…~xXx~...

Harry was vaguely aware of muffled conversation coming from the floor below, and the closing of a door before a car engine turned on and drove off in the distance. He yawned and rolled over on his bed.

He didn't remember falling asleep but that wasn't much of a surprise. He was glad he had missed the dinner party though - it had meant he'd gotten an extra couple hours of rest.

He shifted in his bed and eyed his desk through slitted lids. Hedwig should be back soon from delivering his last letter to Ron which would allow him to send off his letter to Moody.

Raised voices echoed up the stairs and Harry tensed - any remaining tiredness dissipated in the blink of an eye. He was up on his feet before he even really understood what he was hearing. The thudding of Vernon's footsteps climbed up the stairs menacingly.

Harry glared at the currently closed door; his hands clenching into fists.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed when he stood outside of Harry's room. Harry remained silent and waited.

The locks clicked open and Vernon was yelling almost instantly,

"THE COLLINS' MADE A NASTY LITTLE COMMENT ON PETUNIA'S VASE WHICH YOU." At this point Vernon stabbed his finger at Harry's chest, "CONVENIENTLY, DIDN'T CLEAN."

Harry's anger flared and he spoke through clenched teeth, "Oh, did I also forgot to get the specks of dust in the corner of the garden shed, sir?"

A growl crawled its way out of Vernon's throat and he started spewing out curse words. A few of Harry's books that were unlucky enough to be seated near the doorway were flung about, but Harry didn't flinch - angry words and the equivalent of a child throwing a temper tantrum were low on his danger radar.

"YOU. ARE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF FILTH." Vernon's eyes narrowed and he spat his next words out with a vehemence Harry had nearly forgotten he possessed, "It was all your fault. You killed them. And we are stuck with you and all the useless, _unnaturalness_ , you bring into this house."

Harry stood in stunned shock. His blood rushed through his ears and his throat grew dry.

After a few seconds he swallowed and blinked at the heaving silhouette of his Uncle in the doorway. Vernon had a triumphant smirk on his face even as the shocked look Harry wore faded into a cold glare.

He lowered his voice and spoke quietly, his clenched fists and white knuckles the only evidence of his anger.

"You best not speak to me that way again. I have a letter to write and I'm sure you wouldn't like me to mention a decline in the, _care_ ," He spoke this word delicately, "that you are providing me. Would you, sir?"

Vernon's face paled, and he clenched his teeth in a near snarl before turning and stomping away, muttering angrily under his breath.

Harry glared at the retreating back of his whale of an Uncle before closing the door and letting out a shuddering breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

A few quick strides later and Harry was pushing open his window and gulping in the muggy, but relatively fresh, air. The stars winked at him from the sky and Harry scowled. He was frustrated at his body's betrayal to the not-uncommon sentiment regularly expressed by the Dursleys.

The old calendar on the wall next to the window beckoned and Harry counted the days until he could finally return to the place he truly called home.


End file.
